This kind of task in this setting was just about his favorite combination. It only needed horses coming up to the fence with bright eyes, those ridiculously long eyelashes, their soft noses in his palm. Now add Blaze, his new boots making his legs long and coltish, that straw hat low over his brow, green eyes looking at Gabe as though for direction or, perhaps, invitation.
Gabe shook his head and began to lead the way. They had to go about a quarter mile along the lake, on a path that led them beside the edge of a large open field of tall prairie grass, which might have been about two acres, but which seemed swallowed by the large blue sky overhead. Then they got to the wire gate of the twenty or so acres that had been set aside for the horses.
Gabe stopped to test the hook on the gate, and to test the generator for the electricity along the fence line, turning it on and then off again.
“I had no idea this was all out here,” said Blaze, following behind Gabe along the barely there path between the fence and the lake.
“It’s kind of a last-minute fence,” said Gabe. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to see if Blaze was behind him because he couldfeelhim back there, hear the crunch of his boots on the new grass. “We got an opportunity to have first crack at some fine horses that have come up on the market. So we have this, and each week or so, we’ll get a new bunch, sort through them, and decide where they’ll go. Either our ranch, or someone else’s. Maybe a petting zoo, or a nice youngster who is ready for a horse of their own.”
“Petting zoo?” asked Blaze, a laugh in his voice. “That sounds like it’d be pretty terrible for a horse.”
“Every horse will find a good home,” said Gabe. “Even the older ones.”
As they trudged, Gabe looked out over the surface of Half Moon Lake, where it widened till it reached the slope on the other side, so still in the afternoon that the reflection of pine trees and the gray edge of Guipago Ridge could be seen reflected on its glassy surface.
The three-tiered strand fence had been solidly built by a team of ranch hands who knew what they were doing, so he wasn’t worried about it, but it never hurt to be sure. With the rush of horses that would be coming in and out of the pasture over the coming summer, it was best to have something solid in place.
“Why don’t they build it out of wood?” asked Blaze, seemingly close, as though he was looking over Gabe’s shoulder as he paused to test one of the main poles dug into the ground. “And how come there are water tanks instead of letting the horses just drink out of the lake? It’s right there.”
“The strands are white,” said Gabe. “Horses can see them against the tall grass. They’ve got wire inside the tubes of cloth, so if a horse brushes up, they get a small shock, which encourages them to stay back. If you get a horse running into a wooden fence, they could injure themselves. Of course, no fence is perfect, but this kind is better for horses.”
“Oh,” said Blaze, his voice wide with astonishment, as if a whole new world had opened up for him. “And the tanks?”
Gabe stopped, propped his straw hat back on his head, and looked out over the glassy blue water of the lake, taking in a deep breath, enjoying the moment of stillness that settled all around him.
He waited until Blaze was by his side and thought about his own dream of having a bit of land like this to raise cattle, and plant a garden, maybe raise some chickens. That might not be somebody else’s idea of heaven, but it was his. Also, his was the long road he’d chosen to get there, which currently involved standing next to an ex-criminal who he was, by virtue of his position of authority, not supposed to feel drawn to. Right?
“Horses like to graze in packs, to find fresh grass and water each day.” Gabe gestured to the lake, to the rocky shoreline that he knew, toward the south end of the lake, way beyond where the pasture turned into a lovely slough with tall cattails in the fall, and flocks of birds and ducks making it their home. “They’d trample all of this shoreline by just being horses, when the goal is, at some point, to build more tents down this way. To create an open area where folks can more easily look at the stars at night, there being no trees to block the sky.”
Gabe gulped in a breath and made himself stop talking. He could see Leland’s dream landscape just as easily as he could see his own, and there was something about untouched land that made him want to touch it, not to destroy, but to encourage and protect.
His own land would be good for cattle use, and he’d make sure any Russian thistle blight was removed. He’d plant Timothy hay for his cattle, where the land could support it, and he’d—
“Boss?”
Jerked out of his own reverie, Gabe found Blaze looking at him, wide-eyed, a bit of sweat on his cheek, dust along his chin. A smile on his face, a crooked one, as if he was on the verge of teasing Gabe for his dreams, but then would ask because he wanted to find out more.
Only in Gabe’s mind, surely.
“Let’s head down to the slough,” Gabe said. “We can catch a nice view of the lake from there.”
“Slew?” asked Blaze, following close behind once more.
“It’s spelled s-l-o-u-g-h,” said Gabe. “Pronounced slew.”
The slough was hidden amidst clumps of sweet-smelling willow bushes and tall green grasses. Beyond the slough, Half Moon Lake turned back into Horse Creek, burbling its low meandering way south across the high prairie. But here, it was a wet humid area, with birds swooping across the tops of the grasses, the low earth smell of damp mud, and the sounds of bugs in the grasses.
“We can’t cross, as there’s no bridge,” said Gabe. “At least not yet. The plan is to build a wooden bridge across at the spot where it will interfere the least with the slough and the habitat it creates for birds.”
“Who will build it?”
“One of the teams,” said Gabe. “Some parolees, I think, and maybe we can get advice from the Corps of Engineers as to the best way to go about it. Leland does have aspirations.” Shaking his head, Gabe looked up where he could see bits of blue lake through the willows. “But I’ve yet to see a man say no to him when he’s got his sights set on a project. Even one as big as this one.”
“You like him.” Blaze came up to stand beside Gabe and pushed his straw hat back from his head in the way Gabe had done.
“I like him and respect him,” said Gabe, not thinking about the words, but merely how Leland Tate fit into his worldview. “But for me, the two go hand in hand.”
“Oh.”
